Adrift
by EdwardsMate4ever
Summary: In a time when the ice caps have melted and the earth is covered completely by water, survivors are few and far between and trading things is the best way to survive. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Slash. Rated M.


SWW PLOT BUNNY PROMPT COMPETITION.

Title: Adrift

Penname: EdwardsMate4ever

Number of prompt used: 14

Fandom/Fandoms (if crossover): Twilight

Pairing: Seth/Riley

Rating: M/NC-17

Beta: remylebeauishot

Word Count: 2,632

Summary: In a time when the ice caps have melted and the earth is covered completely by water, survivors are few and far between and trading things is the best way to survive. When two boats happen upon each other, one man wants to trade for food, but has only his body to offer in return.

A/N: Let's try this again, shall we?

_**Adrift**_

It was twilight on another seemingly endless day. How many days had passed, Seth did not know. For a while, he had tried to keep count of the sunsets he saw as he sat adrift on the boundless ocean. After a few weeks, he eventually lost track of the time. All he had left were the memories of his life on dry land, and the survival skills he was lucky enough to have been taught by his father.

Seth had spent most of his childhood saltwater fishing with his dad, and that experience is what was keeping him alive. It helped that Seth had an approachable demeanor as well; when he happened upon other rafts as he drifted, he was able to secure other necessary provisions in exchange for the cache of fish he had caught. He had obtained clothing, Tupperware containers, sunblock, aloe vera gel, and water purification tablets this way. Seth wanted for nothing in this new life, save for a roof above his head and dry land beneath his feet. But no one had that. The thing that pained Seth the most was his loneliness. He was a social being, and the solitude was enough to drive him insane. He had not always been alone…

Seth's mother always said he had a good head on his shoulders, even though his father thought he worried too much. When he'd learned that the polar ice caps were melting at a rapid pace, Seth had been quick to start building a boat. Everyone thought he was crazy, wasting his time and energy. Seth was inclined to believe them, but it made him feel better to do it—better to be safe than sorry, he always said. He spent every spare moment working on the wooden dinghy; when it was complete, it was large enough to fit three people. He would have made it big enough to seat four, but his father suffered a heart attack and passed away early on in the building process. Seth took the boat out on the ocean every day once it was finished, practicing his fishing skills as his friends pointed and laughed from the shore, calling him paranoid.

When the floods came, the laughter stopped. His tribe was settled close to the shore, and tsunamis wiped out much of his village. Seth and his sister, Leah, had been lucky enough to escape their home before it was washed away in the tidal wave. Their mother hadn't been so lucky. Seth could clearly remember the blood pouring from her skull after she had been hit by a large piece of debris. Knowing that their time was short, Seth had swum to his boat which was still tied to the dock, his shell-shocked sister tucked under one arm. He had gotten her into the dinghy safely, and dragged himself in after her.

As he had begun to loosen the ties, several of his friends approached, swimming for their lives against the vicious current. There were three of them—Jacob, Jared and Paul—and their faces were distorted with panic and fear. They shouted and begged for Seth's final spot on that boat. But Seth never had to make that terrible choice; Paul made it for him. The crazed Quileute had drawn a knife from his belt, stabbing his best friend Jared in the back and slitting Jacob's throat before clamoring onto the dinghy. Leah swallowed hard as she stared vacantly at the blood red sea surrounding them, and Seth stared wide-eyed at the bodies of his former friends, floating adrift in the waves. Paul had demanded that they depart, and Seth listened, afraid of what the large man might do to him if he told him to get out of his boat.

Time passing did nothing to calm Paul's scattershot mind; the trauma of the tsunami was too much for him. The experience had driven him insane, and although they hadn't seen dry land in weeks, one day Paul shouted that he could see land. Seth tried to reason with him, but it was to no avail. Paul dove into the inky waters one night, swimming away from the dinghy toward his phantom swath of land. Seth and Leah never saw him again.

Not long after, Leah had fallen ill. She hadn't spoken since the floods came, and it was a monumental effort for Seth to get her to eat even the smallest morsel. As they floated, they had come across other survivors, but none had thought to bring along medicines. Seth had no way of helping his sister, so he was forced to watch her deteriorate as the sun beat down on them and the saltwater dried out their skin, her racking coughs resounding for miles around them. It wasn't long before the fever took his sister from him, and Seth swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat as he remembered lifting her lifeless body over the edge of his dinghy and watching his sister drift away from him.

Seth stared at the horizon—a beautiful mix of purple and orange as the sun sank lower in the sky. He wished he had someone to talk to, someone to hold, someone to sit by him in this new world without hope. It was then that Seth spotted something in the distance. It appeared to be a fairly large, thin mass, and there was a long shape in the middle of it. Curious, Seth took a makeshift oar that he had traded some fish for and paddled toward the object.

As he got closer, he recognized the mass as a piece of aluminum siding, blanched by the sun; perhaps it had been part of a house or shop at one time. Lying on a tattered, filthy blanket in the middle of the raft was a man. Seth paddled closer, praying that the man was not dead. The man did not move a muscle, and Seth's hopes for his survival dwindled.

"Hello?" Seth called out tentatively.

The man jerked in surprise and turned his head toward the sound of Seth's voice. His eyes widened, taking in Seth's muscled upper body as the Quileute grabbed the edge of the siding and anchored it to his dinghy with a complex-looking knot. The man sat up, his joints creaking from lack of use, causing him to grimace in pain.

"Are you alright?" Seth asked.

The man tried to reply, but his throat was so dry that the sound that came out was no more than a croak.

"Come onto my boat," Seth insisted with concern. "I have food and fresh water."

The man nodded weakly and crawled toward the edge of the siding. The aluminum dipped dangerously as he approached the edge, but Seth caught his arm and lifted him into the dinghy without much difficulty. He did not speak, as the man obviously wasn't able to, and Seth did not want to make him feel uncomfortable. Seth provided the ragged man with freshly caught fish and purified water, and he watched as the poor soul drank his water in one gulp before starting in on his fish. Seth refilled the Tupperware with more water and watched the man as he ate his fill.

The man was not too old. Older than Seth, to be sure, but he looked to be college-age, in his early twenties. He had a tall frame, but he was awfully gaunt—his body looked as if it had lost a lot of mass over time. Judging from the way he was wolfing down his fish, Seth assumed it had been a long while since he'd last eaten. His clothing was preppy; tattered by whatever trauma he had gone through to survive the floods, the colors blanched by exposure to the sun. Seth rarely wore a shirt anymore, as he had sunscreen and his naturally tan skin gave him protection from the blazing rays. But this guy was white as snow, making the sweat-stained clothing on his back an absolutely necessity. Or, at least, he was _meant_ to be pale. Even in the dwindling light, Seth could see that his exposed skin was terribly sunburnt.

Seth reached under the seat to retrieve the aloe and handed it to his companion once he'd polished off the last of his meal. The young man accepted the bottle, his face awed as he poured the soothing gel into his hands and rubbed it into his raw flesh and over his chapped lips, sighing in relief as his skin cooled and his lips began to heal.

Finished, he handed the bottle back to Seth, smiling widely. "Thank you so much. You are so kind." His voice was velvety smooth now that he'd drunk some water to lubricate his throat, and Seth was thrilled to hear the voice of another after so long.

"Please, it's my pleasure."

The man's smile became shy, and he ducked his head. "I have nothing to give you in return," he whispered.

"Don't worry about it. I don't want anything. I'm just glad you're okay."

His pale face lifted and he gazed at Seth, confused. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

Seth only smiled and shrugged. He didn't know why; it was just his way. The man looked at him for a few long moments, and then his eyes sparkled with an idea.

"There is one thing I can do for you."

The young man got up from his bench and walked over to where Seth was standing. Seth watched him move, wondering what he was going to do. He stood before Seth only inches away, his blue eyes hooded, his slickened lips parted. He smelled of sweat and the ocean. Seth shivered in surprise when the young man ran his hand over the planes of his bare chest and abdomen, gently but firmly, pale flesh contrasting brilliantly against tan. The unexpected contact sent sparks up Seth's spine. When his hand reached the waistband of Seth's jeans, he met Seth's gaze with a questioning expression, seeking permission.

Seth was only fifteen when the floods came, and he had never been touched by another person. His fantasies had always involved women, as that was what he always heard his friends referring to. Seth had never considered being touched by a man, and he didn't know how he felt about it. Part of him wanted to refuse this man's obvious offer, just as another part pressed firmly against the denim of his jeans, begging for touch. He felt disgusted with himself for even entertaining the idea of allowing a desperate man to degrade himself as a form of payment. But the dark side of Seth, the hormone-driven, teenage part of him, was telling him to go for it. After all, he hadn't asked for this. The guy offered. Unsure as his mind was, his dick knew what it wanted...desperate for a touch that wasn't his own hand. Selfishly, Seth wondered when he'd ever get this chance again. He drew his lower lip between his teeth and bit down, nodding slightly.

His companion grinned and swiftly undid the straining denim, shoving them down Seth's strong thighs. Seth gasped as the cool sea breeze caressed his exposed erection, his head swimming with anticipation as the young man laid his hands on Seth's hips, applying pressure to get him to sit down on the bench built into the boat. Seth did so, slipping off the jeans pooled around his feet, as the pale, blond man knelt and positioned himself between Seth's spread legs.

Seth watched as the blue-eyed man peeked up at him through his eyelashes, his face so close to his penis that Seth could feel his warm breath wafting over his sensitive skin. A fleeting thought crossed his mind that he should feel shy about being so exposed, but the thought disappeared as the young man's pink tongue poked from between his lips and made contact with the purple head of his cock, encircling it once before dipping into the slit. Seth gasped as his nerves lit on fire, and, encouraged by his reaction, his companion wrapped his long fingers around the length of Seth's shaft, stroking him firmly. His hand was rough, and he applied just the right amount of pressure; this guy knew exactly how to touch him. Seth's cock grew harder as the man rubbed him, twisting his palm over the head on every upstroke. Seth bit back a moan, embarrassed to make any sounds, but he couldn't keep his toes from curling and his thighs from trembling. He gripped the bench so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

The young man grinned wickedly as he watched Seth react to his touch. Without warning, he opened his mouth and glided the warm wetness over the head of Seth's cock, flicking his tongue against the underside. Seth lost his battle with silence and cried out at the intense sensation. His companion smiled around his cock and took him in deeper, sucking hard and slurping obscenely, the hand on Seth's shaft never faltering as his tongue worked magic on the sensitive flesh.

Seth couldn't take his eyes off of the man between his legs, his dirty blond hair lightly blowing in the wind, his pink, chapped lips stretched wide around his girth, his pretty blue eyes watching him through pale lashes. Unintelligible moans tumbled from Seth's lips, and he felt a strong desire to feel more of the hot mouth around him. He threaded his hands through the stringy blond hair, shoving himself deeper in the man's mouth. Seth felt guilty when he heard him gag around his thickness, and he tried to pull away. But the young man did not allow him to remove himself from his mouth; he dug his nails into Seth's hips, keeping him in place, and swallowed hard around the length of his cock. Seth threw his head back as sparks of pleasure travelled through his dick and spread through his body, his hips beginning to thrust shallowly into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth.

Never having felt these sensations before, Seth was embarrassingly close to release. When the young man cupped his balls in his palm, rolling them between his fingers, Seth was unable to hold back. His body trembled violently as the waves of pleasure crashed over him, and he shouted to the heavens as he shot his hot load down his companion's warm throat, the young man swallowing all that he had to give. When Seth was spent, his companion sat back on his heels, grabbing a shirt from the dinghy floor to shield Seth's sated cock from the cool evening air.

Catching his breath, Seth murmured, "Thank you. That was incredible."

The young man grinned with pride. "No, thank _you_. For everything..." he trailed off, looking up expectantly.

Seth blushed furiously; he had just put his penis in this man's mouth and watched him swallow his semen, and they didn't even know each other's names.

"Seth."

"Riley."

Tan met white as the two men shook hands, sharing a shy smile.

"Seth, do you think…maybe we could…stick together? It's been so lonely…"

Riley looked down bashfully, worrying his lower lip. Seth lifted his chin with a finger, smiling reassuringly.

"I'd like that, Riley."


End file.
